


summer time is where i find out all i think about is love

by irleggsy



Series: irleggsy | Shiratorizawa Fanweek 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Body Worship, Fluff, M/M, Road Trips, Sexual Content, Shiratorizawa, Shiratorizawa Fanweek 2020, Stargazing, like. the slightest bit at the end, no cap this might be the gayest thing i've written to date, rare pairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:31:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irleggsy/pseuds/irleggsy
Summary: Reon, a florist, and Semi, a tattoo artist, take a road trip to Okinawa together. One night, they decide to pull over the side of the road to stargaze, and Reon decides to ask Semi about his tattoos. Cue fluffy story-sharing and totally not at all homoerotic tension.Reon's not perving on Semi’s legs. Nope, not at all. Instead, he’s looking at the swirls of color populating his skin like a wildflower conservatory. Tattoos are still quite a taboo in Japan, so the subject matter is usually quite serious or traditional.Semi’s own choice in tattoos, however, are… bizarre. Not in a wholly unwelcome manner, mind you, but Reon has to ask—“Why a toothbrush?”Shiratorizawa Fanweek Day 3:Road Trip | Toothbrush | Flowershop-Tattoo Parlor AU
Relationships: Oohira Reon/Semi Eita
Series: irleggsy | Shiratorizawa Fanweek 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811692
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51
Collections: Shiratorizawa Fanweek 2020





	summer time is where i find out all i think about is love

**Author's Note:**

> day 3 of [2020 shiratorizawa fanweek.](https://stzfanweek.tumblr.com/) holy shit it's already day 3...? anyways, this is one of two (2) non-angsty works for this week so i hope y'all appreciate it. i got WAY too into this also i am deeply offended there aren't more semi x reon works.
> 
> the slightest _slightest_ NSFW warning for the end.

Reon isn’t sure what he was expecting when a tattoo parlor opened across the street from his flower shop, but this is  _ not  _ where he was expecting to end up.

He isn’t complaining, though.

Reon’s always wanted to go to Okinawa, but he never bothered getting his driver’s license—why  _ would he _ if Sendai Station is  _ right there _ —and it’s near impossible to go without a car.

So, imagine his delight when, upon befriending his surprisingly charismatic tattoo-giving neighbor, Semi invited him to come to Okinawa. With his car!

Well, not exactly his _ car. _

They’re stargazing in the bed of Semi’s shitty manual transmission pickup truck, nursing a pair of lukewarm Sapporo beers and listening to the cacophonous orchestra of summer cicadas. The bumpy ridges of the tonneau aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but the stack of blankets they piled together sure help.

Leaning up against the back window of the cabin, they’re basking in the warm weather and appreciating the view. Tonight is _perfect._ A full moon on top of crystal-clear constellations. The stars are nowhere near as clear on the mainland, so Reon was adamant of taking advantage of clear skies, demanding that they pull over in the middle of nowhere. Semi resisted at first, but Reon can tell from the subconscious smile on his face that he’s warming up to it.

Reon lets his gaze linger on Semi’s legs. Not in a perverted way, but the muscle definition that peeks through when his shorts ride up are an added bonus. Semi fidgets again and Reon can see a flash of colored skin underneath it all.

_ Wait. _

_ Is that another tattoo? ...How far up do they  _ **_go?_ ** Reon imagines Semi biting his lip in pain, his hips exposed as another man presses a tattoo gun against an expanse of pastel skin.

Internally, he smacks himself.  _ Stop that. _

No, he’s not perving on Semi’s legs, not at all. Instead, he’s looking at the swirls of color populating his skin like a wildflower conservatory. Tattoos are still quite a taboo in Japan, but a niche market keeps him in business. Semi off-handedly mentioned at some point that most of his customers were either gaikokujin or Yakuza (“Surprisingly, the Yakuza are more polite!”), so the subject matter is usually quite serious or traditional. 

Semi’s own choice in tattoos, however, are… bizarre. Not in a wholly unwelcome manner, mind you, but Reon has to ask—“Why a toothbrush?”

Reon already knows the story behind the cat (“She was the first cat I had for my own, I think I cried for a consecutive week when she died,”), the ear of corn (“Growing up, I used to spend my summers up North on my grandparents’ corn farm in Hokkaido. I still miss them,”), and the butterfly (“I just think butterflies are cool as fuck.”). They’re gradually making their way through the story of each of each of his tattoos, and he can’t say he isn’t enjoying it.

Yet the crude, faded-over toothbrush continues to baffle Reon.

“This is the first thing I ever inked,” Semi absently reaches town to touch the skin around his tattoo, a healed stick-and-poke of a toothbrush unfurling around his ankle. “You’re going to laugh at why, though.”

Reon takes a few more gulps of his beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Try me.”

Semi looks at him suspiciously.

Reon looks back, gaze even.

Semi takes a deep breath, as if he’s about to tell Reon his biggest secret. “When I was in high school, I was bored, so I decided to give myself a tattoo. I wanted to get something I wouldn’t regret having in the future, so I figured I wouldn’t change my opinion on toothbrushes anytime soon.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Reon has to take a moment to process that piece of information, and when he does, he narrowly avoids laughing so hard that beer shoots out his nose. He swallows hard. He breaks into a coughing fit and Semi gives him a couple firm pats on the back, maybe a little harder than necessary.

Before they really got to know each other, if Reon laughed at him like this, Semi would probably be offended. Now he’s just snickering at him while he wheezes for dear life. 

“Breath, Reon. Breath, _ ”  _ Semi tells him, exasperated. “Dude, I know it’s funny, but is it  _ that  _ funny? You seem like you’re about to keel over,” he jokes.

Reon, collecting his barings, takes a steadying breath. “I have to apologize, but yeah. It’s that funny.” He coughs one last time.  _ “Please _ tell me you see why.”

“Yeah, yeah it’s hilarious. I didn’t have the most brain cells as a teenager, laugh it up,” Semi rolls his eyes, but its effect is ruined by the way he’s clearly holding back laughter.

“Did any of us?” Reon chuckles.

“Apparently you did, Mr. Valedictorian.”

“Hey, I’m still working as a florist, so what good did that do me?”

“Oh, please,” Semi scowls. “As if you couldn’t get into Todai if you wanted to.” 

“You overestimate my academic prowess,” Reon replies dryly.

Semi sticks his tongue out good-naturedly. “Hey, you can think what you want,” He shrugs, bringing his beer up to his mouth. “Besides, I thought you were happy being a florist.”

Reon tracks the movement of Semi’s throat as he swallows and looks away hastily. “Yeah, no. I love it. I couldn’t be happier doing anything else.”

Semi snickers. “Flower boy nerd.”

_ “I’m _ a nerd?” Reon pretends to yawn. “Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of your not-so-subtle obsession with Terrace House.

“You take that _ back,” _ Semi angrily demands. Unluckily for him, Reon knows him too well to genuinely feel threatened.

(Back when Semi hadn’t known Reon, he was a lot pricklier, rougher around the edges, and Reon felt slightly intimidated by him. But then he started to let down his barriers, and he turned out to be endearingly soft-hearted. Under his trademark scowl and his aggressive stance, he was just a dork who was too invested in J-dramas and Shoujo manga. 

One time, he found a stray kitten abandoned on the street and cried for an hour because it was  _ ‘Too damn small, just look at him Reon! What type of heartless person could do this!’) _

“Listen, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Reon chuckles.

Semi jabs a finger against Reon’s chest. “How dare you come into my home, my  _ truck— _ ”

“Indulging in trashy reality TV is actually a really big thing in America,” Reon tells him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Semi elbows him in the side. “Trashy?  _ Trashy?  _ I’ll have you know it’s  _ leagues  _ above anything there!”

“It’s an admirable interest.”

“Just because you’re uncultured doesn’t mean you need to bring me down with you,” Semi sulks.

“Wow, defensive much?” Reon is having the time of his  _ life. _

“Oh, you motherfu—”

Reon cuts him off. “In fact—”

“Lies. Slander!” Semi huffs.

“I think it’s kind of  _ cute,” _ Reon finishes.

Semi jerks back.

_ Fuck. Did I just call him cute to his face? _

For a beat, neither of them speak, refusing to look at each other. 

Semi clears his throat, breaking the tension. “Uh. While we’re here, any other tattoos you’re curious about?”

Reon smiles. “Yeah, actually…”

Gradually, they make their way through all of Semi’s (visible) tattoos, starting with his legs. The star chart, the teacup, the song lyrics. Of course the thing that really catches Reon’s eye are the purple buds of heather crawling up the back of his calf.

When Semi notices him staring, he laughs and asks, “What can you tell me about heather, flower man?”

Before Reon can stop himself, he’s rambling. _“‘Calluna vulgaris’,_ common heather. The name stems from the Greek word _kalluno,_ which means ‘to cleanse or adorn’. You know, heather means different things based on its color, at least with Victorian times. Pink heather usually symbolizes good luck and wishes that come true, whereas white represents wedding rituals or protection from danger,”

Semi’s eyes widen. “Whoa,” He gestures to his leg. “And purple?”

“Purple heather is solitude and respect.” Reon coughs, slightly embarrassed for what he’s going to say next. “As well as beauty worth admiration,”

Semi snorts. “You’re fucking with me,”

Reon doesn’t answer. He’s not, but he can think what he wants.

“You’re going to help me design a tattoo that has some cool flower language on it some day,” Semi tells him.

“Sure. If you really want me to, I’d be honored,” Reon admits.

Semi blinks, not expecting him to agree so easily. “I’m holding you to that,”

They return to mapping out his tattoos. All of the different objects, shapes, lines, colors— they combine to make a fascinating collage across Semi’s body, but Reon can’t say a single one appears out of place.

It’s an organized chaos.

“These are crazy,” Reon muses.

“No, dude, wait—the best ones are on my back,” Semi says, and Reon’s poor heart nearly leaps out of his throat when Semi nonchalantly shucks off his shirt. He turns around, chin over his shoulder to look back towards Reon.

“These represent my friends,” he says, and his face lights up.  _ It’s so obvious how much he cares for the people he loves. _ Reon starts to feel butterflies in his stomach, and for more than one reason. His eyes dart down to Semi’s lower back, where some of the tattoos dip underneath the hem of his briefs.

“So this cow represents my friend Ushijima because of his name, as well as being pretty bull-headed at times. He’s obsessed with urban agriculture, I think you would love him, really. This little monkey guy next to him is a  _ Satōri,  _ a type of Yokai, and he’s supposed to be my friend Tendou…” 

Reon nods steadily, only partially listening. For the most part, he’s lost in the visuals of Semi’s shirtless body. At some point they finish their beers, tossing the cans over the side of the truck with a promise to pick them up later. A five-colored barbet, an  _ Ittan-momen, _ a falcon, and a betta fish, united by a large white eagle. It’s a strange posse and a beautiful piece of art. The spread of color is impressive, even in the low light of the night sky.

After that, Semi turns around and proudly points to the landscapes populating his chest, painted in the style of traditional Chinese calligraphy. Reon feels his face go a bit hot. Sure, he thinks the chest tattoos are cool, but his washboard abs are  _ also _ very cool.

“...And yeah, that’s all of my tattoos,” Semi finishes, turning back to him. 

“Not all of them,” Reon blurts out compulsively.

Semi blinks. “Huh?”

“There’s one around your hip, right?”

Semi blinks, then gives a demure nod. “...Yeah,” he admits.

“Huh,” Reon bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from talking anymore.  _ I might be tipsier than I thought. _

“...Do you want to see it?” Semi asks, tentative.

Reon swallows, hard. “Can I?”

Semi makes a  _ ‘tch’ _ sound, looking away. Reon isn’t sure if he’s being coy or genuinely shy, but either way, he’s into it. 

Semi hesitantly tugs at the material of his shorts, trying to remain modest despite his shameless behaviour just a few moments earlier. It’s unintentionally seductive, and Reon has to school his expression into something a little less… affected. When the full tattoo is revealed, Reon pretends to squint so he has an excuse to get a little closer to Semi’s exposed skin.

“侘寂”

Wabi-sabi.

_ Beauty in imperfection. _

“I’m not lesser if I’m broken,” Semi whispers, and Reon is desperately aware of how  _ close _ they are. “I am still okay, despite my flaws.”

Reon gives him a breathless laugh. “I’d say you’re more than okay,” He reaches a hand out, stopping himself mere centimeters away from the skin. Semi inhales sharply.

Reon looks up.

Semi is absolutely  _ ethereal. _ His skin nearly glows, his hair flits around in the summer breeze, his eyes are lustrous under the moonlight.

_ I am uselessly homosexual.  _ Desperate to keep the quiet intimacy of the moment, Reon pitches his voice low and whisper-quiet, blood buzzing with alcohol and adrenaline. “You’re  _ beautiful. _ Saying you’re ‘okay’ is the understatement of the century. You’re so beautiful it’s unreal.”

Semi flushes a delicate shade of red. Reon wishes it were bright enough for him to see the true colors of his blush; he has a hunch that they’re beautiful.

But he will have time for that later.

This is now.

Semi closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “That’s crazy coming from  _ you. _ ”

Before Reon has a chance to react to the subtle compliment, Semi grabs his still outstretched hand and presses it to the bare skin of his hip.

The touch feels electric, something red-hot and passionate thrumming underneath Reon’s skin. He extends his thumb to stroke the jut of Semi’s hipbone, and the other man shivers at the touch.

“Do you really think that I’m beautiful?” Semi asks, his voice unsteady and choked-up.

“How could anyone tell you otherwise? I don’t have the words to tell you how lovely you are,” Reon murmurs.

They stay there for a bit, Reon marveling at the contrast of his dark hand over Semi’s pale hips.

Semi clears his throat. “...You don’t have to use just your words.”

Reon slowly looks up.  _ This is happening _ .

“Eita,” he breathes, eyes widening.

Desire flashes, bright and eager, in Semi’s eyes, and he gives the slightest nod.

This is happening.

Reon isn’t an impulsive person. Never has been. But still, without breaking eye contact, he leans down, and  _ licks _ his exposed thigh.

Semi moans. Just to hear that sound again, Reon presses his lips to the skin. Another moan. He does it again. Again and again and again.

Can you fault him for his actions when he’s been quietly pining after Semi for  _ months _ now?

Reon continues like that, licking, slowly shifting to kissing, then sucking, then biting. The volume of Semi’s whimpers grow with each passing minute and Reon feels lightheaded with desire. He doesn’t stop his ministrations until there’s a decently sized hickey blooming on Semi’s skin, a spot of color alongside the others.

Semi is panting for breath at this point, a shaky hand fisted in Reon’s hair.

Reon rises until he comes face to face with the man next to him. Semi leans forward, and he’s close enough that Reon can feel breath on his skin.

“Oohira,” Semi’s lips brush over his as he speaks. “Want to see the rest of my tattoos?”

Reon’s eyes widen. “You have  _ more?”  _ Slightly scared to hear the answer, he asks, _ “Where?” _

Semi smirks.

Unable to help himself, Reon surges forward, giving him a heated kiss. They make out like a pair of teenagers, tongue and all, breath tasting of beer, and when Semi makes a helpless little noise, he pulls away. “What a cliché pick-up line,” he replies, slightly smug.

Semi brushes his fingers over his kiss-swollen lips. “Is it working?” he giggles, dazed. 

“What do  _ you _ think?”

Semi taps a finger to his chin, acting as if contemplating, then moves to straddle Reon’s lap, who chokes at the sight, hands flying up to hold his hips. Slowly, Semi lowers himself and  _ grinds  _ against Reon. They both let out a groan at the friction. “I sure hope so,” He leans over to the side, stuffing a hand in a pocket of his duffle bag, searching, then procures a condom in between his fingers. “Otherwise we’re gonna have a problem.”

Reon’s eyebrows shoot up and he lets out a low whistle at the sight. “You were confident, huh?”

“Less so confident and more so  _ hopeful,” _ Semi mutters bashfully, crinkling the plastic in his hand.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been pining after you for _ months.” _

“So have I!” Semi groans. “You’ve got the body of a Greek God, sorry I didn’t even think you were in my league.”

“Have you looked in a mirror recently?” Reon chuckles. “Eita, I worship you.”

Semi buries his face in his hands. “Ugh, you can’t say that cheesy shit out of nowhere!” 

“So  _ now _ you’re shy? I can think of a few ways you can shut me up,” Reon teases.

Semi gives him a dangerous look, emboldened by his implications. He rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth, tugs at Reon’s body until he’s lying all the way down, hovering above him on his elbows and knees. “I’m going to ride you until the only thing you can remember is my name,” he purrs.

Reon prays to the heavens above that he won’t come untouched in his boxers like a teenage boy. “Oh, I have no doubt that will happen.”

Semi _ pounces _ on him.

* * *

As it turns out, having sex in the bed of a pickup truck isn’t too bad—if it’s with the right person.

Reon can’t help but give a self-satisfied smirk when he sees Semi limp the next morning.

  
(Additionally, his hunch turns out to be correct. In the daylight, Semi is _ very _ pretty when he blushes.)

**Author's Note:**

> reon: shit dude the stars are really pretty tonight  
> semi: yeah  
> reon: u know what else is pretty  
> semi: what  
> reon: you  
> semi:  
> semi: (blushing bright red) dude that's kinda gay  
> reon: ...that’s kinda the whole point
> 
> okinawa: i'm like 65% sure you can take your car there from the mainland by ferry but it's been a bit too long for me to be certain.  
> gaikokujin (外国人): literally just 'foreign country person', the politer form of 'gaijin' which typically just refers to white people (non-asians).
> 
> the creatures on semi’s back stem from the team's kanji. hayato 隼人 - ‘falcon man’, ushijima 牛島 - ‘cow island’, satōri 覚 - a type of monkey-like yōkai. goshiki 五色 - ‘five colors’, the five-colored barbet, shirabu 白布 - ‘white cloth’, an ittan-momen - a yōkai that is an evil piece of white cloth. kawanishi 川西 - ‘western river’, so i just chose a random freshwater fish (betta). 
> 
> thank you so so so much to my bud & beta-reader lilleeboi on [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilleeboi/) and [tumblr](https://lilleeboi.tumblr.com/) who is also an amazing writer in their own right also patient with my incomprehensible notes.
> 
> [tumblr](https://irleggsywrites.tumblr.com/)|[instagram](https://www.instagram.com/oborokoto/)|irleggsywrites@gmail.com
> 
> please leave a comment on your way out, it's the only way my stupid lizard brain stays motivated to write <3 thanks for reading!


End file.
